


Torn

by Schattenriss



Series: The Contours of Shadows [14]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Diary/Journal, Family Dynamics, Gen, Mages, Origin Story, Pre-DAI, Prequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-28 06:41:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21132314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schattenriss/pseuds/Schattenriss
Summary: In Southern Thedas, before the events in Kirkwall brought about change, when a mage child's magic manifested the Templars forcibly took the young mage away to be locked in a Circle for the rest of their life. Much has been written about the effect this had on the mages, but what about the families who had their children ripped away from them?The Chantry would have people believe they were all happy to do their duty to Andraste, handing their children over because the Chantry said it was necessary. As Bann, Emil  and Jasia Trevelyan couldn't object when their son was taken, but Emil's personal journal tells a different story.





	Torn

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [Nightscrawl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightscrawl/pseuds/Nightscrawl/works) for QC and asking about Emil's perspective on Kai's being taken to the Circle the way he was.

[](https://imgur.com/IrltjHT)

###  ** _FROM THE PERSONAL JOURNAL OF EMIL TREVELYAN, BANN OF OSTWICK_ **

###  _YEAR 9:19 DRAGON_

_ 5 Bloomingtide _

Another fine spring day. Birds singing, flowers blooming, even saw a fennec with two kits while riding into town.  
Unfortunately, spent an excruciating portion of this fine morning sitting in chambers, listening to one Mother Adelheid (yes, seriously) and her chorus of Chantry representatives protesting on the one hand that they should be exempt from the paltry amount of tax they pay, and on the other that they should be allowed to buy more of the land we’ve designated agricultural. At a discount, naturally. My sisters would undoubtedly agree (and insist we should simply give them everything they want), but happily for all, they’re not on the Council.

Gave me great pleasure to turn them down flat, and suggest they might want to contribute _more _in taxes given their professed concern for all of Ostwick, and not just their fellow Andrastrians. Wish Jas had been there to see it.

Egg salad sandwich and a fruit concoction called “Antivan Surprise” for lunch. Sandwich was bland, and I suspect the surprise was discovering fruit stuffed in the back of the icebox. Last time I’ll let Rowland pick the restaurant.

Got home to report from Kai’s tutors. As usual, the subjects he enjoys are the ones he excels in. The last talking-to resulted in a trifle more effort in the subjects he doesn’t enjoy, but it appears he’s due for a refresher. (I was the same way, but my talking-to was given by a Chantry Brother while Father stood in the background looking like a disapproving wax figure.) Would try to say it’s Jas’s turn, but she claims he listens to me more—“you’re his father”. I fully intend to turn the tables on her once Danae’s old enough to need _talks_. 

One surprise—it’s been over half a year and he’s still mad for that little crossbow Oswin gave him. Thought sure he’d like swordwork, but got the bored shrug with “it’s okay”. Go figure. Goes off for hours at a time with the bow; suggest he enter some contests at the next local tourney?

Appt. next week to talk about paving. Jas found good source for glazed brck. Camilla and her clique are all about granite (_they’re taking everything for granite_ might knock them back a peg when the inevitable argument ensues).

Find out if Rinna might be persuaded to come back. Elf or not, she was a superb nanny for Kai, why not Danae? Haifisch casserole for dinner tonight—after that lunch it’d better be exceptional. Sent word to cook after last night’s dinner that no matter what their culinary school said, anise is not food. 

_ 8 Bloomingtide _

Word is Emperor Florian in Orlais has been assassinated. Don’t know if it will have any effect on Ostwick, but keeping an eye on the situation. At least it should keep them busy, what with in-fighting about succession and their so-called “great game” (I am rolling my eyes here. The only thing great about their game is it keeps the Orlesians preoccupied).

Package arrived from Oswin today containing a note saying “read this!” and a book _The Dasher’s Men_ by Varric Tethras. Don’t know who he thinks should read it – feuding dwarves? – but I’ll give it a go if I get time. Maybe let Kai read it and judge—he likes adventure novels.

New restaurant for lunch, Nevarran food (or so they claim). Had a spicy chicken dish that was surprisingly good. Rowland ordered in Nevarran, ended up with something that looked like two slugs arranged in the centre of a bed of blood lotus. Don’t think that’s what he was after.

Rinna reluctant to come back—says she’s not sure if she could keep up with Danae once she’s mobile. Suggested her niece. Disappointing, but niece could be worth interviewing.

Remember to tell cook fennel is also out of the question. 

_ 10 Bloomingtide _

Andraste’s tits. Denys and Lucile are having another child. This makes six in 11 yrs—you’d think Lucile would have had enough by now. Don’t know how they manage it, seeing as they can’t stand one another. Not to mention they _know _there are methods to ensure that doesn’t happen. As Jas said, it’s not like there’s a shortage of Trevelyans. Poor kid will probably be promised to the Chantry before it’s even made its debut in the world. Sometimes I wonder if Denys is just as mad in his own way as our sisters. Even Mother was satisfied there were sufficient grandchildren after #3.

Talk of having the annual conference in Markham this year. First good idea the planning committee has come up with. Take Kai? He’s plenty old enough to start learning what being Bann entails, and the university’s there. Suspect he’ll do well, the way he devours books.

Open-face hot druffalo sandwich with tomato salad at Fenix - delicious. Gavriel complained it was plebeian—told him he was welcome to find a restaurant more befitting his refined tastes.

Chantry was back in chambers today. This time a Mother Elva making noises about doing a sweep of the alienage in case they’re “harbouring apostates.” Told them absolutely not. Those people have enough problems without the Chant-pounders tearing their homes apart because they’re bored.

Fencing club meeting an hour later than usual tomorrow. Pity Kai hasn’t taken to it, but best laid plans. Maybe Danae, if I’m not too elderly and spavined by then.

_ 12 Bloomingtide _

A simple logic problem for you: 2 ships arrive in Ostwick harbour on the same day. One is Fereldan, with a crew of about 30. The other is Orlesian, with a similar complement. They hit the taverns at approximately the same time, on opposite sides of the district. If they bar crawl at approximately the same rate, which establishment in the centre of the district will be the locus of the inevitable brawl? The answer last night was _The Winking Warden_. Pub was virtually destroyed, injuries on both sides of the battle, one dead Orlesian (who, sorry to say, we’re lucky was conscripted or they’d probably be trying to start an international incident), and both sides blaming the other in an attempt to avoid paying for their mess.

Mother Elva was back, agitating for her damned apostate hunt again. Wonder if she’s getting quotas from on high, or if she’s just mean-spirited. In any case, Kaela and Rowland took her on this time. Told her she had to write a detailed proposal and submit it formally or she wouldn’t have her request considered. When dialogue doesn’t work, hit them over the head with bureaucracy.

Looking at adding some practical plant life to the grounds. Wisteria is all very nice, but a few stands of trees would look nice _and _be a renewable resource.

Lunch was snack tray in office, while we tried to iron out the harbour incident. Mostly good, but did have a nasty turn when I bit into a cucumber sandwich. What demented sadist invented the cucumber sandwich in the first place?

Cook seems to have a strong desire to stack everything into one frou-frou tower in the centre of the plate, then fill the rest of the expanse with a minimal yet artistic drizzle of sauce. Other than honing everyone’s abilities to describe this practice with cutting wit, there is nothing desirable about it. Given the man’s temperament, we may simply find someone new for the position.

_13 Bloomingtide_

Watch was called to a house in the merchant’s quarter this morning. Found a woman, two children dead. Clumsy attempt to set the house on fire; even clumsier attempt to make it look like a rogue mage did it with fireballs. Only problem was, the children were stabbed, the woman beaten and strangled. And guess what—friends confirmed former husband had been harassing her. Chances are good the murderer is the husband, but if it isn’t…don’t envy the watch’s job. Really don’t want to find out the hard way that it’s some lunatic who’s taken a liking to killing.

There are times I truly despise people. The rest of the time I simply dislike them – ha ha.

Another anonymous tip about a group of Qunari lurking around the southeast wall. Probably from the same person. Last time it was nothing but a Tal Vashoth family having a picnic, but I told Rowland to send someone out to check. They were done lurking by the time anyone made it there. These

Back. Late and I’ve had a few more than was strictly wise, but want to finish this entry. Went to a do for Franka and Guilbert’s oldest—15 and going to relatives in Markham for music education in a few months. Think she plays shawms…or is it the stringed thing with all the keys? Took Kai along—he’s got to get used to these things—let him stay over at Marten’s for the night. Pleasantly surprised when the dancing started. Kai’s gotten damn good. Held his own even with adults and seemed to enjoy it.

Gave Rinna’s niece a try tonight—baby was still alive when we got home, so she might work out after all. 

Probably going to regret mixing wine with White Dragons when I get up. Landen got utterly potted, of course. Made an ass of himself trying to start arguments with anyone who’d look at him until Nic hauled him out to their coach to sleep it off. If Landen ever stayed sober and well-behaved at a social gathering, I’d know the world was about to end. And with that, I must to bed. Perhaps I’ll sleep through the worst of the hangover.

_ 14 Bloomingtide _

Worst of hangover fiendishly waited until I had gotten out of bed and been up too long to go back. Wretched, and no sympathy from Jas, who naturally feels _just fine _despite imbibing just as much_. _Can’t write more. Pen’s scritching noise is making my head hurt.

_ 15 Bloomingtide _

Unusually quiet at work today. Can’t help but think the city has something catastrophic in the making to compensate. Chatter starting up about the Tourney already; not particularly interested in anything but a few of the fencing competitions. I’ll go if the Teyrn wants an appearance, but otherwise I can live without making the trek. Had more than a few assuming Kai will be mad to go because their children are, but he’s never shown any interest.

Danae’s passed the eight month mark and her eyes are still blue-green. Could it be she’s dodged Ostwick grey? A minor miracle! 

Tried a noodle dish for lunch – with chicken, vegetables and a spicy/sweet sauce. Surprisingly good, but felt hungry again an hour later. Rowland got a nug/vegetable kebab with a side of hot sauce, wouldn’t listen to Kaela’s warnings to go easy on it. Never seen anyone go that particular shade of red before.

Rinna’s niece—Asharis is her name—starts as Danae’s nanny (ha ha – sounds like the name of a children’s book) next month. Danae seems to like her, but then, babies aren’t too picky as long as you’re civil to them.

Mother Elva back _again_, this time with a Templar and a farm couple from Brandel’s Reach. Very important that they tell us the story of an apostate mage who was squatting on their property and became an abomination one fine day, killing a handful of livestock and one farmhand they seemed far less broken up about before the Templars arrived and killed it. This stirring story was to demonstrate how badly they need to do a sweep in _Ostwick _(not just the alienage any more, but the whole damned city!). Told her she’d already been told to go through proper channels, and Chantry or not, we weren’t going to waste our time discussing it further. Next time she tries, she’ll be turned away without an audience. 

She said, “I see,” spun around and stalked out trailed by her entourage, but if looks could kill…

Ironically, she may have gotten a few of the council onside if she hadn’t been so consistently _bloodthirsty_ about it while pretending smug piety. 

Jas came home with tickets to _Holiday_—been wanting to see it for ages, and there’s always been a problem or it’s sold out (even for the Bann!). Finally! Just need the universe to allow things to go right at least until we’ve seen it.

_ 16 Bloomingtide _

Meetings all day. Writing reports for the bloody Teyrn and signing documents all night. Tired. Cross. Going to bed.

_ 17 Bloomingtide _

_Holiday _was everything the reviews said it is! Worth the wait! Silly fluff, but _smart _silly fluff. If I wasn’t Bann I’d be hard pressed to decide which to do — restore grand old houses to their former glory, or write the kind of snappy dialogue Holiday has. Perhaps become an itinerant adventurer, selling both skills as I travel the land righting wrongs with my wit and dazzling swordwork.

And this is a sign that Emil’s had enough to drink and should go to bed. Right. Thank you, universe. You may bring on your worst now! (though I’d rather you didn’t)

_ 18 Bloomingtide _

Don’t have to go into town today. Going to have a look at the grounds, decide where trees might work best. Be nice if the lake was warm enough, but still a trifle early for that. At least the sun’s out—should be a nice day.

<strike>The FUCKING chantry</strike>

<strike>WHAT GIVES THEM THE AUTHORITY</strike>

I am

Can’t do this rightnow.

Fuck Ostwick.  
Fuck the Marches.  
Fuck Thedas.  
But most of all, fuck the Chantry. Every last one of them should burn.

Where to even start? Kai

those smug sanctimonious bastards took him. I

<strike>too angry to write Stood there like a powerless mump I have to</strike>

Don’t know how coherent this is going to be, but I need to make sense of this. Can’t be effective until I gain some clarity. Not easy to do when I want to

Never mind what I want to right now. It’s late. Probably won’t sleep for shite tonight. Drinking, not in the least drunk. Funny how I’ve become resistant to it the night I could use it most. Had to get away from everyone for a time. Jasia’s rage is a pure, palpable thing, but too much for me right now. Thankfully, she understands my need to retreat.

This is what happened.

I was out on the grounds, making notes for future projects. It was a beautiful day—one of those late spring days that tells you summer’s just around the corner. Perhaps I shouldn’t have given the universe _carte blanche _to do its worst. Hearing hoofbeats coming fast, I looked back to see one of our horses pounding towards me. As it neared I saw its rider was the downstairs maid, and she looked frantic.

Saying I had a feeling something was wrong is absurd. When your downstairs maid is tearing toward you on horseback, you _know _something is badly wrong. 

She reined in her horse as she reached me, saying, “Bann Trevelyan, there’s Templars. Here! They’re after Master Kai but Lady Jasia won’t let them but I don’t think they care. She sent me to fetch you, you need to come _now._”

I thanked her and urged my horse into a full gallop, wondering what in the blackest void Templars would want with my son. Of course, everyone knew what Templars showing up usually meant, but neither one of us had seen any indication that Kai had a scrap of magic about him, and he was much older than children commonly were when magic tended to manifest. Therefore they were wrong, or Elva had ordered them out on a bogus apostate hunt just to get back at me.

When I arrived at the house, they were all out front: Jasia, looking furious; Kai, frightened and sulky; and _three_ fully armed and armoured Templars. My son’s expression turned to relief (and Jas looked pleased but still angry) as I demanded to know what was going on.

The youngest Templar stepped forward. “Your boy’s a mage, sirrah. We’ve come to fetch him to the Circle.”

I thought _“Sirrah?”_ but let the casual appellation go, disliking the implication of his use of it. I looked sternly down at him. “That’s nonsense. You can leave now, and tell Mother Elva this is completely beyond the pale.” 

The Templar, who couldn’t have been more than twenty, looked confused, and that made me uneasy.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about, sirrah. We were sent by our commander, not the Chantry. The boy’s got to come with us. He’s been reported as using magic.”

I looked to Kai, who was glaring at the Templar. “Kai? Is this true?”

Wide-eyed, he said, “Of course not. Mother’s probably right—someone’s trying to make us look bad. I’m no mage; you know that.”

As I dismounted, Jasia folded her arms across her chest and raked all three Templars with a withering glare, snapping, “I think it’s time you get off our property. Our son’s done nothing.”

I was considering that look of doe-eyed innocence on Kai’s face, and feeling the first twinges of worry. I tried to ignore them.

The oldest Templar—a hard-faced woman of around fifty—stepped toward Jas, looking every bit as implacable. “We’ll be happy to get off your property, but the boy’s coming with us. He is a mage and he’ll be taken to the Circle. Now.”

I was getting fed up with their arrogance and high-handedness. Even if our boy was lying through his teeth, they had no reason to act like we were a pack of feeble-minded criminals. I said, “What evidence do you have? If there’s been an accusation of that gravity, you should be able to provide us proof beyond the assurance you’ve been given an anonymous report. Maker’s breath, a dog catcher wouldn’t release a found animal to you based on the claim of ownership you’re making.”

“You could at least show some respect,” Jas added. 

The youngest Templar looked uncomfortable, but the silent one was expressionless and their leader sneered at me. "We know. He’s been seen. Now say goodbye." She put one hand on the pommel of her sword.

I was momentarily floored by the implied threat from this agent of the Chantry. Jas looked angry enough to spit nails. What would have happened next, I can only imagine, because Kai took it out of our hands.

I’d taken my eyes off him for a moment as I stared down the lead Templar, but we all looked as he shouted, “_No!”_

The terror and desperation of his expression told me he realized we weren’t stopping them, and that made me feel sick and angrier than I already was. I didn’t have time to react, though.

His shout had been because the silent Templar had grasped his shoulder with one gauntleted hand. He shouted, _“Fuck you!”_ for good measure, twisting out of from under the Templar’s hand.

Then he threw his hands forward and cast a ball of orange-white fire the size of a cabbage straight at the man’s face, spun around and started running.

The Templars were right.

My son was a mage.

I watched in a frozen sort of shock as the silent Templar dropped to the ground to avoid the fireball with a calm that suggested he’d expected it. The young Templar was already running down Kai, tackling him to the ground. As the Templar stood and hauled Kai to his feet, it looked as if my son was trying to cast something else, but couldn’t.

That’s why they sent Templars, of course. They can prevent mages from using their powers.

The lead Templar gave Jas and me a smug smirk that made me want to wipe it from her face via removal of her head.

The young Templar had tight hold of Kai, who’d given up struggling to look straight at me, voice cracking in panic as he shouted, _“Help me, don't let them take me, all I need is training, we have the money, you can get me a tutor, you can't let them do this.”_

I agreed with him wholeheartedly, but one look at the Templars’ leader told me there’d be no mercy extended. She was enjoying this. For the first time in many years, I had no idea what to do, and a sinking feeling there was nothing I _could _do. 

At the same time, I couldn’t help feeling crushed and disappointed and, yes, somewhat angry with Kai. I wondered how long he’d been hiding his abilities—he’d obviously been practicing—and why he hadn’t trusted us enough to tell us. Yes, he was only thirteen but…

The silent Templar had taken over, frog-marching Kai toward their waiting horses. He tried to struggle, and the man finally spoke. “Keep it up and we’ll hogtie you, brat. Either way you’re going to the Circle.”

Kai stopped struggling, looked from Jas to me, his eyes bright with tears. The fear and desolation in his expression and voice felt like claws ripping my heart and gut as he begged, “I’m _sorry_. You can’t let them do this. I don’t _need_ to be locked up, _please_.”

I shook my head in helpless negation, hating myself, hating the Templars, hating the Chantry that had decreed this was how any person with magical ability was to be treated. Bann of Ostwick, and I couldn’t even prevent my own son from being torn from us.

Then one final thing happened to make the horror of the day complete. Jasia scowled at Kai, turned abruptly, and stalked into the house. There was a moment where no one moved, watching the door slam shut behind her. I got the impression the Templars were just as surprised as I, and could imagine what Kai must be feeling.

Kai looked at the younger Templar, said in a small voice that didn’t sound like him at all, “But what about my things?"

"The Circle will provide everything you need," the Templar replied.

Kai shut down then. He said nothing else as they tied his hands behind his back and hauled him onto one of the horses. The silent Templar mounted behind him.

The young Templar mounted his own horse, as did his leader. He gave me a guilty glance then turned away. The lead Templar looked me in the eyes, and gave me a thin, gloating smile before goading her horse forward, commanding, “Let’s go.”

Kai didn’t look at all, just stared blankly ahead, tears still running down his face. 

I watched until they were gone, then stared at the nothing where they’d disappeared from view. Footsteps finally made me turn as Jasia rejoined me. Her face was composed with a tightness that told me she was holding everything in.

“He’s gone,” I said.

“I couldn’t let them see me fall apart,” she said. “I wouldn’t give them that satisfaction. And I needed to check on Danae.” She laughed a bitter laugh that had no humour in it. “She slept through the whole thing.”

“Just as well.” I still felt numb. “A crying baby would’ve just been icing on the damn cake.”

Jas took a deep, shuddery breath. “Why didn’t he _tell _us?”

I put an arm across her shoulders. “I don’t know.” 

“If they think this is over, they’re in for a rude awakening.”

“If you’d seen the fucking smirk on their leader’s face when they left, you’d have torn it right off.”

She made a noise equal parts disgust and amusement. “I could cheerfully kill every one of them.” A frown darkened her face. “Em, how could he be a—one of those?”

I shook my head. “I can’t right now. Let’s go in.” 

As we walked to the house, I belatedly noticed my horse was still on the front lawn. She had wandered some paces away to investigate a flower bed. As we entered, I charged the first servant I saw with fetching her back to the stables. At the stairway, I stopped.

“Jas, I—“

She nodded. “I know. Go ahead. I could use some time to myself too. I’m so angry I can barely keep from snapping at you.”

I gave her a weak smile. “I don’t want you to see _me _fall to pieces.”

“Take all the time you need. Just don’t shut me out entirely.”

“I promise.” We hugged one another, then I came up here. 

Took some time, but putting what happened down on paper helps. Puts the horror at a bit of a remove. I do wish Jas hadn’t walked away like that. I understand why, but I doubt Kai did—Maker only knows when she’ll ever get a chance to explain it to him.

Need to explore options. Not going to simply roll over and let them have their way.

But right now it’s late, I’m exhausted, the alcohol is finally having an effect, and I’ve left my wife alone long enough. Time to put this ghastly day to bed.

_ 19 Bloomingtide _

Spent the morning with Jas discussing our options. If she had her way, I think we’d blow up the Chantry, perhaps all of them, then burn whatever pieces were left. I admit to feeling the same, though her revenge fantasies are more richly detailed. It’s one of the things I’ve always loved about her. 

Told her about Elva’s return to agitate for apostate hunts; she agrees that doesn’t bode well, wondered if there’s any way to circumvent her. Problem is, it’s not just her. It’s the entire damn Chantry, backed by every damn Templar. And they’ve got every government in Southern Thedas in lockstep with them. Furthermore, we’re supposed to feel fine about this. 

There’s no damn reason we shouldn’t be able to do exactly what Kai was begging us to do—get him teachers and school him in magic right here. I never thought about why the Chantry has such a vested interest in locking up mages, but now I wonder. If they were as prone to possession and loss of self-control as the Chantry makes out, then Tevinter and Rivain should both have imploded eons ago. Not to mention the fact that Kai’s a Trevelyan. We Trevelyans have always been adept at self-control. Even my sisters, with their fanatic devotion to Andrastianism (I am NOT looking forward to them finding out about Kai), have self-control. They don’t always choose to use it, but they have it.

We’ve got the name of the head of the Circle, and the name of the Templar commander there, too. Not sure who else we can entreat right now. I know better than to ask the Teyrn to intervene. He’s Chantry through and through. 

Jasia’s out trying to learn more about the system and what we can do. I retreated here to the study to sort things out. Jas is better at ferreting information out of people; I’m better at implementing it.

Or so I always thought. I’ve never felt so ineffectual. It’s a shite feeling.

_ 20 Bloomingtide _

Pardon my Orlesian, but for _fucks _sake. I knew it was going to be fruitless, but…words that aren’t equally blunt and rude fail me.

We went to the thrice-cursed Chantry. Saw a Mother Imogen. Reedy woman with big, round, earnest-looking eyes of cornflower blue. Looks like she’s good with children and wants what’s best for you. Rather pasty complexion suggests she spends much of her time indoors, no doubt knitting tiny sweaters for puppies and newborn babies. Probably has a private abattoir in the Chantry basement.

Things started out well enough. She came up to Jas and me, squeezed Jas’s hands in both of hers, then mine, said, “I feel so _badly_ for you. Maker’s breath, what you’ve gone through. Any parent would be devastated.”

Had a seat, didn’t even get as far as broaching the subject of _seeing _Kai, let alone bringing him home and getting him training there. You see, she wasn’t talking about having our child snatched without so much as a warning memo or attempt at doing it with dignity and respect.

She was talking about the devastation of having a (_insert expression like you just stepped in something nasty_) mage for a child.

_Knowing _how the Templars had handled it, and that it was two bloody days ago, she sat there and said, “I know it seems cruel of the Maker to make such children, and you had him so long. But those with magic are born to serve the greater good. You should feel relieved that he’ll be able to do so, and that he’ll be properly supervised rather than a danger to us all.” She smiled beatifically at us. “Believe me, he’s in a better place now.”

Fucking thrice-blighted bitch.

I said, “Well. You’ve rather said it all, haven’t you?”

She either didn’t hear the sarcasm or chose to ignore it. Asked if there was anything else she could help with.

Jas said, “No, you’ve brought us great clarity. We’ll let you get back to work.”

She smiled and wished Andraste’s blessing on us and our daughter. As far as she was concerned, Kai might as well be dead.

And that’s the other thing, of course. What about Danae? What if she’s got magic too? Do we look forward to a repeat of the 18th? And at what age? I’ve heard of children taken away as young as five, and Kai’s proof some come to it much later than that. What are we going to do if it happens again? And how many years will we have to worry?

Also can’t let her know we’re worried. It’s unfair to her if we do that. 

Feel very much like getting drunk, so I won’t.

_ 21 Bloomingtide _

Sent word that I wouldn’t be in for the rest of the week. Family emergency. Perks of being Bann: when things are quiet, you can get away with that.

Arranged for an audience with the First Enchanter (_reminder: _that is the official title of the head mage) of the Ostwick Circle. We’ll see what he has to say before deciding if it’s worth approaching the head Templar. I’m in no mood to talk to Templars at the moment.

Spent much of the day reading about Circles, the history of them, the Chantry’s role in turning them into what they are now. It’s embarrassing, how little I know about the subject. It’s verging on criminal, really, that an entire segment of our population is _disappeared _into those places and no one seems to give a damn. Out of sight, out of mind, as they say. The Chantry maintains they’re too dangerous and unstable to be allowed to live amongst the rest of us.

Are they?

I no longer believe that to be entirely true.

Kai—a thirteen-year-old with _no _training—successfully hid his magic from all of us. I don’t know for how long, but he showed no behavioural changes, didn’t become possessed, didn’t attack, damage or kill anyone or any_thing_ as far as I know…nothing that they claim. If he had that level of control over himself, why is a fully-trained adult so incapable of handling him (or her) self that they need to be locked up for their entire life?

Thoughts:

  * By perpetuating this myth, the Chantry has a private army in the Templars
  * By perpetuating this myth, the Chantry controls every mage in southern Thedas
  * This gives them a second private army of magic casters, that they can deploy or withhold as they see fit
  * They even have the right to massacre entire circles if they decide they’re too much trouble
  * _Think about that._ I, as a Bann, or the Teyrn for that matter, do not have the right to massacre an entire population of people (though I’ll admit the world would mostly look the other way if the victims were elves), but the Chantry does, with the help of its pet Templars
  * _Who is the real danger in Thedas?_

_ 22 Bloomingtide _

Back from our trip to the Circle to meet the First Enchanter. It’s not that far from town—maybe an hour’s ride on a hardpack dirt road. You don’t really see anything from the outside; just high walls partially hidden by trees. The coach was made to wait outside the main gates. We went in on foot, “escorted” by Templars. They made damn sure we didn’t stray off the path, but couldn’t stop us looking. The grounds are landscaped to look collegiate, those high walls partially obscured by the kind of trees you can’t properly climb. I’m sure there are spells that turn anyone trying to breach the walls into a fragrant paste. I didn’t see many people walking around (unlike every campus I’ve ever visited), but there were certainly a lot of Templars.

Who pays for them? The government or the Chantry? Need to look into that.

They took us not to an office, but a small private courtyard. We sat. Two of the Templars stationed themselves in alcoves at the far corners of the courtyard, watching; it had only been a few minutes, but they were getting on my nerves. Jas gave them a dirty look that mirrored my sentiments.

The First Enchanter wasn’t at all what I expected. Firstly, he was young—no more than 35, I’d say, with brown hair and a short, well-groomed beard of the same colour. His eyes were a darker shade of brown. Second, he was _big._ Not beefy or fat; just a big man. He was nearly a head taller than me, and from what I could judge, solidly built. Looked more like he should be overseeing construction projects than heading up the local Circle, but I suppose he had no choice in his lifetime residence and employment opportunities either. He introduced himself as Oliver Caudill, asked how he could help as opposed to what we wanted. A small but significant distinction to my mind.

We told him how they took Kai, asked what options were open to us.

He made a small gesture then smiled. “I’ve cast a very small spell so the Templars can still hear us, but can’t make out what we’re saying. So long as they hear voices, they don’t tend to find it unusual.” His expression turned serious. “I’m sorry to say I’m not permitted to allow you to see him. Frankly, the only reason you’re here is due to your political and social position—there was at least mild concern what might happen if they turned you down flat.”

“I’ve read there are some Circles where the mages are permitted not only family visits _to _the Circle, but visits home as well,” I said.

“There are a very few, and they’re on thin ice. The Chantry doesn’t approve of that level of liberalism; they tend to crack down on those Circles eventually, and it never turns out well for the Circle. Their philosophy here is that the children brought in should make a clean break with their former lives, since those lives are gone. That includes family.”

“Do you share that belief?” I asked.

“What I think is immaterial. They’re orders from on high, and I can be easily replaced if I disobey them.”

“So this _philosophy _of theirs is why they feel entitled to come in like a gang of thugs and snatch children?” Jasia demanded.

“They’ve found over the years that when forewarnings are given, parents tend to do things like try to hide their children, and children old enough to understand try to run away.”

“Imagine that,” I said.

“Can you tell us who and what needs to be disposed of to change that?” Jasia asked. “At least locally? I realize disposing of the entire Chantry/Templar organization is too tall an order.”

His head dropped for a moment as he hid a stifled laugh from the Templars. “I wish I could, but you probably have better information than I. The most I can give you is…there is precedent for a few brief visits to children from…influential families.”

As usual. Apply enough money and pressure and avenues mysteriously open. We just had to find out where to apply them.

I asked, “How is he doing? Can you at least let us know that?”

Oliver nodded. “I can send you occasional reports to let you know his progress, at least until he reaches majority. At the moment, of course, he’s…having trouble adjusting. It’ll take time, but I promise you I’ll do everything in my power to help.”

“Short of letting him go,” Jas added. “What about his things? Are we allowed to help with _anything_? Supplies? An occasional gift? Clothes?”

“Supplies are…supplied. Gifts are forbidden, but you can provide a stipend for him to get the occasional luxury item, and you can pay for his clothes if you wish. We don’t _require _robes here, but that’s what the Chantry provides free of charge. Some of our mages prefer their own wardrobes; the Chantry and Templars agreed to it to help keep the peace, they say, but in reality they take a portion of the cost for themselves.”

We talked perhaps another ten minutes, long enough for me to feel some relief. Caudill really did appear to be on the side of his…charges? Students? I couldn’t exactly say prisoners because, as a mage, even as First Enchanter he was in many ways as much a prisoner of the Circle as Kai. In any case, I liked the man and felt he would try to do what he could to help. A weak consolation, but better than nothing.

_ 23 Bloomingtide _

Jas surprised me today. Went off on a tear about “how could Kai be a mage?” as if he had some choice in the matter. I pointed out it hadn’t been some whim of his that he could walk away from. She surprised me again by snapping, “Yes, but what are people going to _think _when they find out?”

I said I don’t give a fat damn what Ostwick society thinks.

She said, “Well some of us have to,” and walked away.

I put it down to the after-effects of this horrible week. Everywhere we turn, we’ve been told in no uncertain terms there is no way to get our son back. The Circle opened its voracious maw and swallowed him whole, along with how many other children?

We’ll do what we can to wring every damned concession out of them possible, and keep an eye on Danae. Right now there’s little else we _can_ do, though I intend to look into ways to modernize, and pull this land out of the hidebound superstitions the Chantry has foisted on us. They may not realize it or even care, but the Chantry and Templars made us enemies that day. The kind of high-handed, bullying tactics they use offend me on a visceral level. The lack of caring they’ve shown speaks of entitlement and an essential disconnect with the people they profess to serve.

Ha ha — maybe someone, someday, really _will _blow up the Chantry. Or immolate it—I’m not picky. I would publicly condemn such an act (since the good people of Ostwick wouldn’t countenance a Bann who wasn’t a proper Andrastian), but in private? I’d raise a glass to them.

_~End~_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, kudos and comments are welcome!


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